


no more clarity (only confusion)

by weatheredlaw



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Challenge: Fic a Day in May, F/M, Kidnapping, Muzzles, Solitary Confinement, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of predators have gone missing, and Nick realizes why he never liked Assistant Mayor Bellweather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no more clarity (only confusion)

**Author's Note:**

> someone requested this on disney kink meme but i can't find the link now.

**NICK**

 

* * *

 

This is…bad.

 _Okay, focus, concentrate. They made a left and then another left and then a right and then…then another right, I think. Or was it a gentle merge? Is it cold? It smells…cold. Idiot, **cold** doesn’t smell like anything_ —

The door to the van opens, and rough paws grab and _pull_. Nick spills out into a dark, empty space, blinking hard against it. It is cold, he realizes, but not Tundra Town cold. Something different. He shakes quickly, paws feeling against…concrete? Cold concrete, _why is everything so cold?_

“Boss said _large_ preds.”

“We took the otter, didn’t we? This one ripped me off.”

A grunt. Someone wraps an arm around Nick’s waist and lifts him the ground.

_Sly fox._

He slips from their hold, but the place is still dark, and he realizes he’s been blindfolded and _why didn’t he notice that,_ this isn’t amateur hour.

A growl, a shove, and stars behind his eyes.

He wakes up.

Steady drip. Drip. _Drip._

“Hey, what the hell, man?”

“ _Quiet!_ ” Nick turns, and there’s light, finally, and he is…in trouble. Where is he? The little box is clearly a cage, and if that weren’t the worst thing about this, he realizes he’s got a collar around his neck.

_Perfect._

“Where—”

“If you don’t stop talking,” a voice rasps, “they’re going to _make_ you stop.”

Nick huffs. “They can try.”

“They will.” The cage next to him rattles a bit, and an otter pokes his nose between the bars. “They did it to the bears. They wouldn’t stop shouting, and they started the fight before it was time—”

“What fight?” Nick looks toward the otter, and this must be the one they were talking about.

He hangs his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Uh, yeah? It does? What’s happening?”

The tiger in the cage across from him growls. “ _Both of you, shut up!_ ” He looks down the hall. “They’re coming.”

Nick follows his gaze, and the door opens, light spilling into the long, narrow room. Nick swallows – it’s _filled_ with predators. He sees the bears, sees their maws strapped tight with –

_I gotta get outta here._

Hooves click down the hall. A dainty little noise, rain on a roof, and Nick would kill to see sun—

“I said _large_ predators,” a voice says quietly.

“He _scammed_ us.” A large hoof knocks on the bars of Nick’s cage. “He took off with six hundred bucks and the _van_.”

The smaller hooves click toward him, and Nick realizes pretty quickly who it is.

“That sounds like your fault,” Bellweather says. “Not his.”

“Yeah, but—”

“He’s here,” she interrupts. “Nothing we can do about it. It’ll make for interesting…spectacle, I suppose.” Her phone buzzes in her hand and she sighs. “I need to go—”

“Uh, _excuse me?_ ” Nick leans forward. “Yeah, hi. _Hello—_ ” He waves. “Just wondering. What is _happening_ here?”

Bellweather turns back to him, her little mouth crooked up, hooves behind her back. “Chatty, aren’t we?”

“Attention seeking is a life skill,” he quips. “I knew there was something I didn’t like about you.”

“You’re a fox,” she says coolly. “You don’t _like_ anyone.”

“Well that’s harsh,” he says, hand over his heart. “And extreme character assassination. You don’t even _know_ me.”

Bellweather tips her head. “You scammed my boys.”

“Well.” Nick relaxes, leaning casually against the bars of his cage. “They sort of _asked_ for it.”

The little sheep smiles. “That’s clever, fox. I could use clever.”

Nick frowns. “Come again?”

“I manage a small business,” she says. “Call it…a secondary form of income. The predators here are, really, a lot like you. They’re not always in the green, not always playing clean, and sometimes, they’re in a lot more trouble than they think. Working for me…fixes that.”

“Blackmail.”

“In a way. See, here? It’s all spectacle. And the better the spectacle, the better the crowd. The better the crowd, the better the pull. The better the pull…well, you get it.” She paces, now. Nick feels…nervous. “You bring in enough, I work my magic at city hall, make a few phone calls—” Her hooves click. “ _Voila._ Instant amnesty. Record clear, slate clean, however you feel about it.” She leans forward. “Is that something you’re interested in, Nicholas?”

“Do I get a choice?”

“In a way.” Bellweather pulls back. “We can do this the easy way—” She claps once, and one of the sheep brings her a clipboard with a sheet of paper on it. “Or the hard way.”

Nick straightens. “What do you want?”

“Work for me. You’re invisible in this city, if you want to be. And I know your record. I know all about the family you don’t have, the friends who won’t miss you, and the life that isn’t really yours. These idiots are the best I’ve got, but with you…well, half of this city’s criminals could be in the green before next spring.”

“You want me to help you _kidnap_ predators.”

She smiles. “ _There_ we go.”

“That’s garbage.”

“And that’s your opinion.”

Nick pulls back. “Nuh-uh. Thanks, but no thanks, sheep. I’ll pass.”

Bellweather sighs, passing back the clipboard. “Then I suppose we do this the hard way.” Another click of her hooves, and Nick’s cell door opens. He scrambles, but he’s dizzy still from the earlier blow to the head, and long legs make quick work of his face and jaw. A strap here, the press of cool, cold, familiar metal on this nose and –

 _This is bad, this is really bad, this is so bad_ —

“It’ll come off when you can learn to be quiet,” Bellweather says. “And to behave. Show begins at nine sharp, fellas. Be ready.”

The rams drops Nick onto the floor of his cage, and his paws immediately come up to tug, tug, _tug_ at the muzzle on his face. Panic bubbles up like bile in his throat, and he thrashes and he is nine again and he is _alone alone alone_ , just like she said, just like she knows –

“Don’t fight it,” the tiger across the way says, gently. “Deep breaths.”

_Off, off, get it **off** —_

“Calm. Be calm. You’re going to be alright.”

 _No, I am going to suffocate in this thing and this is shittiest way to die ever, this isn’t how it was supposed to happen, this **isn’t**_ _what I wanted—_

“Breathe,” the otter says. “Someone is going to find us. The ZPD—”

Nick finally manages to get air into his lungs. He gasps, grinding out against the muzzle, “ _Screw_ the ZPD.”

A few animals make noises of agreement. The otter sighs.

“You need some hope, fox. If you don’t have that…” He shrugs.

Nick feels his body relax, and there’s a primal urge inside him to find a corner, curl up in it, and sleep.

So he gives in to it.

 _Easy way_ , he thinks. _Or hard._

 

* * *

 

Bellweather lets him watch the fight. It’s a polar bear who’s obviously on his last leg verses some cheetah who looks scared shitless and so _young._ The muzzle is still tight on his head, and Bellweather’s presence only makes it harder to breathe.

“You see now, don’t you?”

“You’re a piece of work.”

She shrugs. “A matter of opinion.”

“Pretty sure it’s fact—”

“Tighten that,” she snaps. “I’m tired of listening to this idiot.” Nick groans and winces in pain as sharp hooves tug on the strap. “Better,” Bellweather coos. “Much better.” She puts a hoof on his shoulder. Nick pulls away. “Now behave,” she adds. “And watch.”

Nick watches.

It…doesn’t end well.

 

* * *

 

From what he’s managed to gather, Bellweather hasn’t made good on her promise. No one who’s come into…wherever they are, has come out. The otter tells his story – that he sorted it out when a friend went missing, wound up on Bellweather’s bad side. He hasn’t been made to fight yet, and he’s got a wife and a couple of kids back home.

He’s the only one with any hope, the only one who thinks the police are going to find them—

Nick’s memory snags – a bunny, he remembers. It couldn’t have been that long ago. A meter maid with a bad attitude, a little too much to prove. He thinks about her, for only a moment.

“Screw the ZPD,” someone mutters, an echoing sentiment repeated like a mantra, each and every day.

Nick curls up, closes his eyes, and goes to sleep.

 

* * *

 

His first escape attempt does not end well. It ends, frankly, with him being thrown into the ring last minute, and getting his ass handed to him. The lion is thinning, but his blows are insistent and Nick is _small, too small_ –

But it’s the first time the muzzle’s been off him in…shit, he can’t even remember how long it’s been. He’s lost track of time, doesn’t know where his is, and now his eye is swollen shut.

So he makes break number two –

Bellweather gets him a different muzzle, and throws him into the fight again with it on.

Nick stands, because he won’t fight, he won’t participate, he won’t give her the _satisfaction of becoming a spectacle_ –

He wonders if his lungs are bruised. It hurts to breathe.

Third escape attempt ends with him in solitary confinement. When Bellweather puts him into the ring, the polar bear destroys him.

The fourth escape is only in his mind.

“This is the wrong battle, Wilde.” Bellweather paces in front of his lonely cell. Otterton’s voice isn’t there for him anymore, the gentle murmur of preds communing, understanding – all gone.

Just that…drip.

Steady, persistent.

Nick’s eyes close.

“I told you, we could have done this the easy way. But that time has passed.” She shakes her head. “Cooperation is all I needed, Nick. All I _wanted!_ ” Bellweather looks around. “It’s a shame this is probably where it ends for you. Really.” She reaches out to touch him, and Nick scrabbles away, claws scratching on the cold concrete. Bellweather clucks her tongue. “So sad,” she says. “A fox. Afraid of a sheep.”

_I am not afraid of you—_

A ram pokes his head in. “We’re ready to go.”

“Sleep well,” Bellweather says, waving over her shoulder. “And sweet dreams.”

 

* * *

 

**JUDY**

Upon inspection of the warehouse, Judy thinks it would be in poor taste to say _I told you so_ to anyone. There is nothing worthy about her find, beyond the fact that she has actually found it. The mammals are still missing, but her nose and ears tell her that, below ground, there is more going on than one might suspect. Certain mammals smell certain ways, and people get distracted by the ears – Judy is perfectly capable of using every sense she possesses. Including inductive reasoning. So it isn’t hard to find the trapdoor in the floor – but it is hard to figure out whether or not to go down alone.

Bogo will kill her, if someone else doesn’t. Bogo will be _furious_. Bogo will probably _fire her_ – but what else can she do? She’s already made a fool of herself today, already toeing the line too close for comfort. No, she’ll do this by herself, make the call when she has more proof. If it’s nothing, then she’s done for. But if it’s…something.

Judy swallows.

She wants it to be something, because she wants to keep her job. But there’s a part of her that has been scared of finding even _one_ of these missing mammals from the beginning. She flips through photos of the casefiles on her phone – half a dozen polar bears, a few tigers and lions, a cheetah, an otter of all things, and – that _fox._

_It’s called a hustle, sweetheart._

Was that the last time she’d seen him? With her ears burning and her feet stuck and her heart hammering in her chest because hadn’t everyone been right all along about—

No. _No._ Not the time. Not the time to get mad about a fox with words that hit too close to home. Not a time to get angry with herself for being a failure (she wasn’t, no one could call her that yet). She turns on the flashlight on her phone and sets off, climbing down a latter and landing on a cold, concrete floor. Everything about this place has been cold since she found it. She saw them unload another bear here, but they must have used a different way down, there’s no way a bear could have gone down _this_ tunnel. Her ears almost touch the top of it, and it winds and twists in odd places. Judy checks the reception on her phone – decent, but not great, and sighs. It’s going to have to do, she thinks, and makes a little mark on the wall before she turns the corner.

It’s going to be _hell_ getting back.

 

* * *

 

There’s a _dripping_ noise coming from the end of the hall, and a light shining up from an open grate. Judy realizes she’s in the ventilation system for whatever network of halls and rooms is below her. The smell of predators gets stronger, here, but specific scents begin to sort themselves out –

 _Ram_ , she realizes. _Sheep_.

Sheep and –

“You’re clearly not read to rejoin your friends, fox.”

That voice…doesn’t Judy know that voice? She pads carefully down the shaft, peering over the grate and staring right over –

“Screw you, Shitweather.”

“How unique. Honestly, your slew of new and fascinating new nicknames never ceases to amaze.” There’s a scuffle, the sound of someone’s voice being smother and a swift kick in the ribs. Bellweather turns, and Judy clamps both paws over her mouth to stop herself from even _breathing_ too loud.

This…was not what she was expecting.

“I have to be back at city hall,” the sheep says. “Let’s move.” She’s escorted by two rams, who move and reveal the fox Judy had met just a handful of days before, alone and in a cage barely larger than he is. His snout is clamped shut with a silver muzzle that he’s fighting with his entire body, scratching at his own face and neck to get it off. Judy can hardly watch – she yanks open the grate and drops down into the room. The fox stops struggling and stares, breathing heavy and watching her. He snarls against the bonds, and Judy begins looking at the door of the cage.

“...NickWilde? It is Wilde, isn’t it?” He seems to hesitate before he nods, keeping his back pressed to the farthest set of bars. Judy sighs, inspecting the lock before realizing it’s a button pad, coded and secure. “Do you know the code?”

He snorts under the muzzle, and Judy realizes he can’t even speak.

“Come closer, let me—” Nick shakes his head, pointing at the door, then tapping his wrist. “How often do they come back?” He writes _1-5_ in the air and Judy sighs. “I’ve got ten minutes, then. Here.” She reaches out and he reluctantly puts his snout in her paws. She undoes the buckles and he hisses as it slides from his face.

“ _Damn._ ”

“Are you alright?”

“Peachy, rabbit. Did you bring back up?” Judy shakes her head. “Amazing. _So_ amazing. I’m glad you were prepared.”

“No one would have believed me.”

“True,” he says, and massages his snout. “You need to get back up there and call your people.”

“I’m getting you out first.”

“Uh, no. I’m sure you’re _very_ clever, honestly, but the code changes all the time, they come _back_ on time, and there’s a lot more than just me stuck here.” He points to the ceiling. “Go back the way you came and make the call, Carrots.”

“But you—”

“Look, I can _guarantee_ that if you stick around and let me go, she’s going to figure out I had help, and she’s going to know someone was here. That’s all I know for sure. What I can’t tell you is what she’ll do. She’s been making promises to these preds left and right, she’s doing _weird_ shit, and frankly I have no idea what’s happening or why she’s doing it. You _can’t trust her._ ” Judy nods. Nick sighs. “Right.” He picks up the muzzle. “You need to put this back on me.”

Judy flinches. “I…no. No, I won’t do that.”

“If they see me without it, it won’t be pretty. Please just put it back on.”

“But you—”

“ _Put it on and go!_ ” he snarls. Judy’s heart skips, and she rushes forward, carefully tightening the straps again and nodding. He points to the ceiling, and Judy’s about to make a leap for the top of the cage when the door opens, a whole lot sooner than she thought it would. Nick’s eyes widen in panic, and Judy has her tranq gun out and training on the two rams opening the door. Two pops sound through the room, and they go _down_ , falling on top of one another as Judy holsters the gun and makes for the ventilation system. The way she figures it, Bellweather’s got another ten minutes or so before she realizes something might be wrong. Judy’s got a four minute walk through the shaft, and two minutes before she can finally get ahold of the precinct.

The timing needs to be perfect, needs to be impeccable –

But she’s _Judy Hopps_.

She can do this.

 

* * *

 

By the time Bellweather realizes someone’s seen Nick, Bogo is breathing down her neck.

The whole operation is shut down in minutes, as EMT’s get the wounded predators out of their cages and back to ground level. Judy is caught in the hustle of it all – no one’s congratulated her on a great find, or expressed their gratitude. But she’s not really angling for it. She’s got her eyes peeled for Nick, who she spots being treated for a sprain and the sores on his snout left by the muzzle. Judy waits until the medics clear and carefully makes herself known.

Nick smiles. “Hey, it’s officer Toot-Toot.”

“That’s me.”

“Look at that, you did real cop stuff.” He shifts uncomfortably under his shock blanket and looks past her. “How great is that.”

“Are you alright?”

“Not even a little bit,” he says, straight face and all – but his expression softens. “I will be, Carrots. Don’t worry about me.”

“I wasn’t,” Judy says quickly. “I mean, I’m not. Not like that, at least. I’m worried about you, like, a normal amount. The amount a stranger should be worried about another person –

“Cool it, rabbit. I’m not trying to give you a heart attack.” He leans against the door of the ambulance. “Just…” A yawn. “Damn.”

“I think they gave you something so you’d relax.”

“That or the days have finally caught up to me. It’s draining, you know, being locked up in a _cage_ all day.”

“I…can only imagine.”

Nick points. “That’s exactly right.” He sighs. “So what’s next, Officer?”

“Um. Paperwork, I think.”

“No, I mean, for you. In general. For _us_. We bonded, you put the muzzle back on me.”

“And I _never_ want to do that again!” she snaps. “Honestly!”

Nick chuckles. “Alright, Carrots, take it easy.” He eyes her gun. “You were pretty smooth with that.”

“I got perfect marksman ranking at the academy,” she mumbles, and goes to sit next to him.

“Not surprising.” He makes room for her. “ _Do_ you think there’s room in your officer’s heart to let a fox say thank you in the best, most delicious way possible?”

“You can’t make a radish cake,” she teases,

“You’re right,” he says. “But I know a great place that makes them.”

Judy snorts. “Are you seriously asking me out?”

“You have _zero_ clue how arousing your little show with the tranquilizers was, do you?”

“None at all,” she mutters.

“Perfect.” He nudges her with his elbow. “I love helping people try new things.


End file.
